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Monday, May 7, 2012

Christmas Eve. Oh, I’m Pastor
Dan Jacobson, pastor of St. Matthew Lutheran Church. I came to check things out
for my Christmas Eve service and there she was standing kneeling next to the
Nativity Scene. She stood and turned toward me. I sensed the tension in her.
I’m sure with the light behind me, she couldn’t see who I was right away. She
was holding a baby.

I approached slowly and she immediately relaxed when she
realized I was a man of the cloth, immediately mistaking me for a priest.
Normal mistake, many people mistook me for a priest.

The baby wasn’t hers, she explained. She found it next to
the crèche. Naturally, I was suspicious. Was she trying to pull a fast one? Her
annoyance didn’t escape me as she pushed the note in my hand. Not that it
proved anything, she could have written it. Thing is, she looked me in the eye
and I’ve discovered people who are lying don’t look you in the eye.

Her eyes held sorrow, grief. This was a woman who was
suffering. We sat down and I asked if she had children. Tears instantly sprang
to her eyes. Slowly but surely, the story came out. She had a two year old
daughter, whose father demanded custody, threatening Vanessa if she didn’t
agree. She had no choice or chance of getting her daughter back if she didn’t
take the money he offered and leave.

It wasn’t long before someone else entered the church. The
baby’s mother raced toward us, crying. The poor girl was at wit’s end, not
knowing where to turn. When she saw Vanessa come into the church, something
made her scribble a note and run out. But, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t leave
her baby.

I knew I should call the police, but Vanessa came to the
rescue, insisting the girl and baby stay with her. It was Christmas Eve and
after the tale Vanessa just told me about her own child, well heck, how could I
possibly call the police? So I got the address where they were staying and let
them go, figuring I’d check on them later. Besides, I wanted to see Vanessa
again.

To find out what happens next, you’ll have to read the book.
It’s available from Amazon

EXCERPT

Vanessa’s
stomach tensed. She had to get out of here. Needed some air, needed to escape.

She
got in her car and started driving, to where was anyone’s guess. The quaintness
of Strongsville, Ohio, especially the town square with the gazebo with all the
Christmas decorations, brought tears to her eyes. Vanessa wiped the tears away
and parked the car. Shoppers and carolers filled the sidewalks. Ignoring them,
Vanessa hurried past decorated shops until she came to a small church. St.
Matthew’s Lutheran Church, the sign out front said. Two huge wreaths hung
on the heavy oak doors. The small white building beckoned to her.

Vanessa
opened the door, walked up the steps and stood at the entrance. The quiet of
the empty church filled her soul. It had been too long since she had attended
services. Charles wasn’t particularly religious, but at least he had allowed
her to have Alyssa baptized. She should have gone to church more often by
herself, but after spending Saturday evening at the club, it was all too easy
to sleep in on Sunday morning.

Light
showed through the stained glass windows, illuminating the red carpet-covered
aisle way. A nativity scene at the front captured her attention and drew her
forward. Memories from her childhood flashed through her mind.

Her
father always helped set up the nativity at church when she was a little girl,
and they let her put Baby Jesus in the crèche. A noise came from the side
aisle, interrupting her thoughts. Vanessa stopped, saw a flash of red and the
side door slammed. Funny, she hadn’t noticed anyone else when she came in.

Oh,
well, Vanessa shrugged and continued to the front and knelt down. What in the
world? Next to the nativity scene sat a car seat. An infant, three, maybe four
months old with dark curly hair, opened its almond shaped dark eyes and reached
its chubby arms out to her.

“What
have we here?” Vanessa unbuckled the seat belt. “Hello, precious.” She picked
up the baby and a note fell on the diaper bag next to the car seat. Vanessa
picked up the paper and read the scribbled words.

Please
take care of my baby. Her name is Grace. Mary.

“Who
could leave someone as precious as you?” Vanessa looked around. No one lurked
in the shadows. Who left the baby? How long had she been here? God, what should
she do? The baby cuddled against her. Vanessa inhaled the sweet smell of baby
lotion, bringing back memory of Alyssa. Tears filled her eyes. For a minute,
she was tempted to take the baby and leave, but she couldn’t do it.

Startled,
when the door at the back of the church slammed, Vanessa turned toward the
sound. A shadow loomed at the entrance and moved toward her. A tall figure
walked down the aisle, checking the pews along the way. Vanessa hugged the baby
against her, held her breath, and let it out when she saw who it was.

“Father,
I’m glad you’re here. I came in here and found this baby. I was just about to
call the police.”

“I’m a
minister, not a priest. Pastor Dan Jacobson, Pastor Dan will do,” he said. “You
found a baby?” His brown eyes sparkled with a glint of gold below raised
eyebrows. “Who do you suppose it belongs to?”

“Yes, I ... uh.” The look on his face told her he
didn’t believe her. Heck, she could have pretended Grace was hers. He wouldn’t
have known. “When I came in someone ran out through that side door. I came up
here to see the nativity scene and….” Vanessa walked away and sat in a pew,
cradling the baby against her chest. What was the use, he didn’t believe her.
She didn’t need this. Not now. She had enough problems of her own.

“I
see, pretty little thing, boy or girl?” Vanessa stood and took a step closer to
him. “Girl.” She stopped next to him. “You aren’t suggesting this child is
mine, are you?” Vanessa looked him straight in the eyes. How dare he? Minister
or not, what gave him the right? “Look, I came in here and found the baby. I
told you someone ran out that door.” Vanessa took a deep breath, let out an
angry sigh. “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “This was lying on the
diaper bag. I didn’t touch anything else.”

Pastor
Dan stared at her, like he was studying her.

Vanessa
stared back at him. Disbelief showed in his face. Like she’d try to pull off
such a stunt? Imagine her abandoning a baby like this. The memory of Alyssa,
clinging to her when Charles tore her away, flashed in her mind. Even now,
Alyssa’s cries when Charles slammed the door ripped her apart.

Pastor
Dan brought her back to awareness. “I see. Well, I guess we’ll have to call
Social Services.” He read the note, then picked up the diaper bag and looked
through it.

The
warmth of the baby against her chest opened a hole in her heart, missing Alyssa
even more. Her insides trembled, tears burned her eyes, threatened to fall.

“You
have children?” Pastor Dan’s tone softened.

A tear
escaped, fell on her cheek. She nodded, a lump caught in her throat.

“How
many?”

“One.”
Vanessa choked out the word.

How
old?”

“Two.”
The tears burst forth as if a damn had been unleashed. “I’m....” Vanessa
couldn’t speak. She turned away, held back the tears, and paced across the
front to the nativity scene, leaving him standing there.

***

Attractive
woman and she held the baby like she cared about it. Was she trying to pull a
fast one? Yet, something about her suggested she was telling the truth. Her
eyes—that was it. She had honest eyes. Dan laughed inwardly. What was it with
him and people’s eyes? He’d learned over the years that people telling the
truth looked you in the eyes, whereas liars looked away, over your head, or
down at the floor. This woman looked him full in the eyes.

And
he’d gone and made her mad. She didn’t look like the sort of person he wanted
mad at him. No, she looks like the sort of person who needed help. Like someone
he wanted to know better. No wedding ring, but the pale mark on her tanned
finger indicated she wore one recently.

Something bothered her, an inner conflict. The baby wasn’t
hers, but there was something. A sorrow in her eyes, a deep hurt on her face.
He had seen that look before, usually someone suffering from grief. He wanted
to know more about this mysterious woman who showed up in his church and
discovered the baby.

“Yes, I ... uh.” The look on his face told her he
didn’t believe her. Heck, she could have pretended Grace was hers. He wouldn’t
have known. “When I came in someone ran out through that side door. I came up
here to see the nativity scene and….” Vanessa walked away and sat in a pew,
cradling the baby against her chest. What was the use, he didn’t believe her.
She didn’t need this. Not now. She had enough problems of her own.

“I
see, pretty little thing, boy or girl?” Vanessa stood and took a step closer to
him. “Girl.” She stopped next to him. “You aren’t suggesting this child is
mine, are you?” Vanessa looked him straight in the eyes. How dare he? Minister
or not, what gave him the right? “Look, I came in here and found the baby. I
told you someone ran out that door.” Vanessa took a deep breath, let out an
angry sigh. “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “This was lying on the
diaper bag. I didn’t touch anything else.”

Pastor
Dan stared at her, like he was studying her.

Vanessa
stared back at him. Disbelief showed in his face. Like she’d try to pull off
such a stunt? Imagine her abandoning a baby like this. The memory of Alyssa,
clinging to her when Charles tore her away, flashed in her mind. Even now,
Alyssa’s cries when Charles slammed the door ripped her apart.

Pastor
Dan brought her back to awareness. “I see. Well, I guess we’ll have to call
Social Services.” He read the note, then picked up the diaper bag and looked
through it.

The
warmth of the baby against her chest opened a hole in her heart, missing Alyssa
even more. Her insides trembled, tears burned her eyes, threatened to fall.

“You
have children?” Pastor Dan’s tone softened.

A tear
escaped, fell on her cheek. She nodded, a lump caught in her throat.

“How
many?”

“One.”
Vanessa choked out the word.

How
old?”

“Two.”
The tears burst forth as if a damn had been unleashed. “I’m....” Vanessa
couldn’t speak. She turned away, held back the tears, and paced across the
front to the nativity scene, leaving him standing there.

Friday, April 27, 2012

forced to give up your child. That's what happened to me. Oh, I'm Vanessa Gleason, by the way.

When I first met Charles Sanford, I lived in Cleveland. He often had dealings with the lawyers where I worked. He convinced me to quit and move to Cincinnati and work for him. It wasn't a difficult decision, I didn't have anything to keep me in Cleveland and I was already infatuated. He swept me off my feet, lavished me with gifts -flowers, jewelry, even clothes. It was a whirlwind romance, going to the club, theater, surprise trips to Cancun, the Bahamas, you name it. Before I knew it, he asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes, I was crazy in love.
It was obvious from the first day I met her, Mrs. Sanford wasn't thrilled with Charles's choice for a bride, but she took over, planned the most expensive wedding of almost a thousand people and even picked out my dress. Not that I cared, I just wanted to be part of the family.
It didn't take long to realize she was out to destroy my marriage. Little comments, tactfully made of course, about how I was too friendly with the help or how I shouldn't pick up after myself. I even heard her tell Joanna, Charles's sister, that I wasn't suited to be Charles's wife. Of course,she insisted I quit my job for Charles - Sanford women didn't work - and join them volunteering and at the garden club and other organizations. I hardly had a minute to myself.
At least I didn't until I had my daughter, Alyssa. Mrs.Sanford wasn't too happen I became pregnant so soon after our marriage. I didn't care. I was thrilled. Charles and I could be a family.
Or so I thought. My fairytail romance soon took a turn for a horror story.
Elusive Mission is available from Amazon

EXCERPT:

Vanessa blinked
back tears. The empty feeling inside wasn’t going to subside any time soon, and
hiding away in a hotel room wouldn’t change anything. Besides, tears wouldn’t
bring Alyssa back. But, somehow, someway she was going to get her daughter
back. What was her baby doing? Did she miss her? Was she crying? God, she
missed Alyssa. Missed their morning ritual—the loving, hugging, and cuddling.
Every day for two years, they started the day the same way.

At least they did until two weeks ago.

Never in her life had she felt such anger and pain.
Tears burned her eyes, slid down her cheeks. Powerless to stop them, sobs shook
her body. Gulping back the sobs, Vanessa looked around the small hotel room.
Okay, so it wasn’t the Ritz, but it was clean and reasonably priced. Luxury
wasn’t important. Never had been before and sure as heck wasn’t now. The
important thing now was figuring a way to get her daughter back. Time to pull
herself together and get on with life, find a job. Two weeks of self-pity was
enough. Vanessa swung her legs over the side of the bed, went to the bathroom,
and turned on the water for the shower. She needed a plan. Crying wouldn’t
solve a darn thing.

The hot water ran down her gaunt body, and Vanessa
lathered her tangled auburn hair. Was it only two weeks ago life seemed normal?
How could things have changed so suddenly? But it wasn’t sudden. A divorce had
been coming for a long time. She just never expected it to end without Alyssa.
Vanessa shivered getting out of the shower and wrapped the towel around her.
Her only chance of getting Alyssa back was to find a job, and to make a fresh
start.

Showered and dressed, Vanessa caught her reflection in
the mirror. High sunken cheekbones sat beneath green eyes that stared back at
her with a vacant look. How had her face become so skeletal in two weeks? What
happened to the woman, who had her hair done weekly, never appeared without
makeup, and worked out every day? Not that she cared about all that pampering.
None of that mattered, never really had. What mattered was her baby. Living
without luxuries was easy. She’d done it all her life. But losing Alyssa left a
hole in her heart. Never had she experienced such pain. Not even when her
parents died. Losing her child tore her apart. Tears burned her eyes again.

Vanessa gulped back the tears and turned away from the
mirror, straightened her shoulders and stood to her full five foot eight
height. Through the years, her height had afforded her many advantages, and
she’d been proud of it. Not so long ago, it had given her confidence and
security. Time to regain that confidence. She was down, but not broken. No
other way to beat Charles and his mother to win custody of Alyssa, and beat
them she would. Darned, if Mrs. Sanford was going to raise her daughter. Not in
this lifetime.

Charles—what a mistake he turned out to be. Although
he had provided well for the past five years, the past was over. He didn’t
matter anymore. Hadn’t really mattered for a long time.

She brushed the hair from her forehead, smoothed her
blouse and took a last look at the unfamiliar person that stared back at her.

“Time to get down to business, first thing to find a
job,” her voice in the empty room shocked her. It was the first time she’d
spoken in almost two weeks.

Clutching her sweater tight to block out the wind,
Vanessa hurried across the parking lot to the motel lobby and purchased a
paper. Back in her room, she shivered, poured a cup of coffee, sat down at the
small round table, and opened the paper to the classifieds. The settlement
money from Charles was safe in an account, but she didn’t want to count on it
to live. Besides, it wouldn’t last forever. It was time to do something for
her, to feel worthwhile again. That money was the start to getting Alyssa back.
Vanessa smiled. Nothing would make her happier than beating Charles with his
own money. But it would take a lot more than what she had to find a lawyer who
could beat him.

Memory of signing the papers and taking the money
invaded her thoughts. That sneering smile and hushed tone of Mrs. Sanford made
her skin crawl, even now. The words would be forever implanted in her mind.
“Charles has been more than generous in his settlement. You ought to be
grateful, dear.”

Oh yeah, more than generous, but at what price? And
grateful, for what? That they forced her give up her daughter? That Charles had
threatened her? Mrs. Sanford’s idea of grateful and hers sure didn’t agree. And
that dear, if she never heard that term again, it would be too soon, especially
the way Mrs. Sanford said it. But they weren’t going to win. Not by a long
shot.

Vanessa set the paper aside, closed her eyes and
remembered how happy she had once been. How could things have gone so wrong?
All she had wanted was to fit in, to be the perfect wife and part of Charles’s
family. Quitting her job at Mrs. Sanford’s insistence was her first mistake.
Filling her time managing Charles’s large house, fulfilling commitments at the
club, and volunteering with Mother Sanford and Charles’s sister, Joanna, was
supposed to be fun. Fun, yeah right, nothing with Mrs. Sanford was fun.

Pushing the memory from her mind, Vanessa picked up
the newspaper, circled some help wanted ads, and made a few phone calls. It
didn’t take long to figure out Christmas Eve wasn’t the best day to look for a
job.

Christmas Eve. She had lost track of time, Christmas,
when she should be with her daughter. She had begged Charles to let her stay
until after Christmas, but with his mother behind him, as usual, he refused.
How could anyone be so cruel?

“What difference does it make what day it is?” Charles
waved her off. “It’s over, the papers are signed. Take the money and leave
before I change my mind.”

Vanessa left, knowing he meant it. She wouldn’t put
anything past Charles Sanford these days. He sure wasn’t the man she married,
or had she been too blinded by love to see the real Charles?

“But the fight isn’t over, Charles Sanford. Somehow,
someway I’m going to win Alyssa back. No way is your mother going to raise my
baby.” The choked sound of her own voice startled her. The thought of Mrs.
Sanford raising Alyssa sent chills through her. No, that cold, unfeeling witch
wasn’t going to raise her daughter.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

When I decided to renovate my Victorian home, I was excited. My fiance, Ben noticed a stained glass window outside that didn't show in the attic. Ever since I first saw the home, I was drawn to the attic. It would be a perfect place to write. Oh, yeah, I'm an author. Maybe you've heard of me, Anna Hughes? No, oh well, that's okay.
Ben agreed to help me knock down the wall in the attic, which really surprised me. Ben doesn't like to get dirty and he doesn't like physical labor. I think he only did it to prove me wrong that there was more space beyond the wall. When Chad Edwards, the construction worker/handyman agreed there was more space beyond the wall, Ben agreed to save me the money of Chad knocking it down.
Needless to say, I wasn't about to refuse.
What we found was amazing. Not only was there a room, it was fully furnished. That's when I first saw the shadows. They hovered over a trunk in the corner of the room. Ben didn't see them and of course, he thought it was my over active imaginiation. Anything Ben didn't agree with, he used that. Ben didn't like the idea that I wrote books. To him that wasn't a real career. The fact that I was on the Best Seller List and now earned my income as an author didn't matter to Ben. According to him, anyone could sit down and write a book. He had no idea what went into writing a book, and couldn't care less.
Too bad Ben wasn't more interested in my writing and my imagination. What came next wouldn't have been such a suprise to him.
You can find a copy of Shadows in the Attic at: Amazon

EXCERPT:

I hurried to my
room, freshened my lipstick and ran a comb through my hair. I loved my new
short hairstyle, even if Ben didn't like it. It didn't take hours to blow dry
and style even after a shower. Chad Edwards, the contractor Connie recommended,
would be here any minute. I liked the sound of his voice over the phone, all
deep and masculine. Besides, he sounded as excited about the restoration as I
was.

I hurried
downstairs when the doorbell rang, opened the door, and my mouth darn near
dropped open. The sexiest, hunk of a man I ever saw stood in front of me. His
dark hair, mussed from the wind, fell over his forehead. Bushy eyebrows topped
the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, and he towered over my five foot six height. A
complete contrast to Ben's dark, brooding looks.

Something
jolted inside me, and I swear electricity seared the air between us. Even my
arms tingled. Never had a man affected me this way. What was wrong with me? I'm
engaged for heaven's sake. But I couldn't help it. This man stirred something inside
of me. Something Ben never stirred.

"Chad,
please. Nice to meet you too, Anna. You don't mind if I call you Anna do you?"

He took my
hand, and my heart did a strange flip. A trembling all the way down to my toes
scared me. I liked the feel of his rough hand, calloused from hard work, and
was disappointed when he let mine go.

"Hi, Chad.
No, I don't mind." His name flowed easily from my lips, like I'd been
saying it forever. And I especially liked the way he said my name, placing the
emphasis on the first syllable—Ann-a, unlike the quick way Ben said it, more
like On-na, with the emphasis on the last syllable. Kind of hoity-toity.

Chad's smile
reached his eyes. Something about it made me think he was fun-loving,
spontaneous and adventurous, unlike serious minded Ben. Not that there was
anything wrong with Ben being serious. I just wished sometimes he'd let go a
little. Darn it, why was I comparing Chad to Ben?

"Please,
come in." I swung the door to let him in, and closed it behind him. He
stood in the foyer and looked around, letting out a low whistle as he stared up
the curved oak staircase. A picture of him, standing there years ago, waiting
for the daughter of the house to join him, flitted through my mind. He seemed
to fit.

I smiled at the
image. "I've heard good things about you, Chad. I'm glad you agreed to
look at this job."

"I couldn't
resist. When I heard it was a Queen Anne style Vicky, well let's just say that's
my weakness."

"Mine too.
When this house came on the market I had to see it. Once I saw it, I was sold."
I led the way to the attic. "Come on, I can't wait to get your opinion."

I turned the
corner to the landing and looked back at him. Darn, he was good looking. "This
is the first room I want done. We'll look at the rest of the house later."

As we rounded
the corner of the attic, Ben joined us. "We want this wall knocked down
for starters,” he said. “Anna thinks there's a room behind it. At least there's
a leaded glass window that shows from the outside of the house."

Ben's tone
irritated me. Okay, so he didn't agree with me about the renovations, that didn't
give him the right to intrude on my conversation.

Chad knocked on
the wall in several different places and looked at the floor space between the
walls and took some measurements. "She could well be right," he said.
"This room should be much larger." He turned his attention to me. "What
exactly do you want?"

"I want to
make a home office up here for my writing."

"You're a
writer?"

Ben didn't give
me a chance to answer. He came and stood next to me and put his arm around me
possessively. I tried to shrug him off. This wasn't like Ben. He never touched
me in public. Never even held my hand.

"So, what
will you charge to knock the wall down and finish this space? I mean is it even
worth it?" Ben pulled me tighter against him and almost knocked me over.

"Just to
knock the wall down and haul the material away, fifteen hundred dollars. It
depends what else Ms Hughes wants as to the rest of it." Chad turned his
attention back to me again.

"I can't
give you a price on that until the wall is gone, and we see what's behind it. I'll
need to know exactly what you want, wiring, lights, that kind of thing. You can
knock the wall down yourself and save the money. There's no wiring or heating
ducts to worry about."

"Okay, we'll
be in touch," Ben said. "Thank you for coming. He guided me to the
top of the stairway and waited for Chad to go ahead of us. I tried to pull
away, but Ben held me tight against him.

"Anything
else?" Chad turned toward me again.

"We'll
talk about it and get back to you," Ben said, not giving me a chance to
answer.

I bit my
tongue. Oh, we were going to talk about it. No doubt about that. I'd say
something now, but didn't want to start anything in front of Chad. What made
Ben think he could take over like that? Like I was a moron who couldn't think
or talk for myself.

"Okay,
then." Chad turned and went downstairs ahead of us.

Ben finally
dropped his arm from around me and followed Chad to the door before I made it
to the bottom step. "We'll be in touch," he said and almost pushed
Chad out the door and looked at me. "I think we should knock the wall down
ourselves. Then you can see what's behind it and not waste the money."

"You're
willing to help knock down the wall?" Would wonders never cease? I couldn't
believe my ears. I let the matter of Ben's rudeness drop. If Ben was willing to
work on the attic, I wasn't about to start an argument. Not yet, anyway. But
you can bet I wouldn't forget it, either. He'd hear about it eventually. I'd
have my say. Oh, no, he wasn't getting off that easy.

"Sure, we
can start tomorrow. Once you see there's no room up there, you can forget this
nonsense of renovation."

I opened my
mouth to argue, but thought better of it. Ben was willing to help, and I was
taking advantage of that. Fifteen hundred dollars was a lot of money. "Okay,
we'll start tomorrow."

*
* *

Whack! I swung
the hammer, and the hole in the attic wall widened. Even through the plaster
dust, I swore I smelled flowers. Roses and something else—lily of the valley—that
was it. One more whack and a section of the wall collapsed.

"Ben,
look!" I stepped through the opening and stared into the room. A dusty,
women's antique French desk stood in the center of the large room. The wall
behind it held book shelves still lined with books. Two chairs grouped, in
front of the window, around a table that held a tarnished silver tea set.

I spun around
the room. "My God, what is this?" Pictures hung on faded rose
wallpaper. Dim light, from the dirty, stained glass window in the alcove, cast
eerie shadows. "This is unbelievable."

Shadowy figures
in the corner of the room beckoned to me. At first I thought my eyes were
playing tricks. Between the dust and the dim light, but no, the shadows were
there, plain as day. They hovered over a carved trunk.

"Ben, do
you see that?"

"See what?"
Ben brushed the dust off his hands.

I held back a
giggle. I couldn't help it, he looked so uncomfortable. This wasn't Ben's cup
of tea. I was still trying to figure out why he helped me. He stepped through
the opening and looked at me.

"Shadows over
that trunk." I held back, dying to know what was in it, but half afraid to
go near it.

"Probably
cobwebs."

I sighed. The
look on Ben's face said it all. "Cobwebs, right."

"There you
go again. You and that overactive imagination. I suppose now you're going to go
ahead with the renovation." He took a couple steps into the room, stopped
next to the desk, and opened a drawer. "Hm, Look at this." He pulled
a sheet of stationary out of the drawer. "Mary Elizabeth Gilbert, wonder
who she was."

I took the
stationary from him. A bouquet of lily of the valley embossed the top of the
page. Again, the shadows appeared and beckoned to me. "Those aren't
cobwebs, Ben. Look."

Like I didn't know the difference between
shadows and cobwebs. Definitely shadows. Willowy figures hovered over the
trunk. Come open it, they seemed to say. There was a sense of urgency about
them, yet I didn't feel threatened. Giving in to the urge, I hurried to the
trunk and lifted the decorative lid. "Oh, look at this!" I lifted a
pearl handled hairbrush out of the trunk. "It's beautiful." A shadowy
figure floated above it. Then, I lifted out a corset and held the tiny form in
front of me. One of the shadowy figures moved closer, almost on top of me.

"Ugh, I
can't imagine having to wear one of these." Suddenly, my stomach and chest
tightened. I lost my breath, gasped, and sunk to my knees. The corset fell from
my hand. The shadows backed off. I was finally able to take a deep breath, and
let it out slowly.

When I opened
my eyes, Ben stood over me. "Are you okay? What happened? You looked like
you were going to pass out."

"I...I don't
know. I couldn't breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing the life out of
me." I looked at the corset lying on the dusty floor. What just happened
here? A shadowy figure lingered nearby. What was it trying to tell me?

"I think
we better get out of this dust for a while, get some fresh air." Ben
helped me to my feet. "You can come up later. I know how anxious you are
to go through that trunk. There's no stopping you now, is there?"

I hated to
leave, but Ben was right. I had inhaled an awful lot of dust. "Ben do you
smell flowers—roses or lily of the valley?"

"All I
smell is plaster and years of dust. Roses, are you sure you're okay?" He
furrowed his brow and gave me one of those disapproving looks that said I was
nuts. I hated that look.

"I'm fine,
just a little woozy. You're right, probably from all the dust." So Ben
hadn't seen the shadows, and he didn't smell the flowers, so what. I looked
back through the opening, and they were there, big as life. I sighed and
reluctantly followed Ben downstairs.

After a quick
lunch and something to drink, I stood, anxious to go back to what I now called
my treasure trove. I love old things. That's why I bought this old Victorian
house. Sure, it was a fixer-upper, but that was part of the charm and fun.

I needed a quiet place to write. Someplace I
could retreat while work was being done on the rest of the house, and the attic
fit the bill. Besides, I needed a place of my own, away from Ben.

Ben had noticed
the stained glass window from the outside a couple weeks ago. I hadn't noticed
it when I bought the house. I'm sure Ben was sorry he mentioned it to me. Not
that it mattered; I was still planning on renovating the attic. The window was
the only reason I managed to talk Ben into tearing down the wall. Not that he
believed me. He thought someone just covered over the window from the inside.
He only went along because he thought it would prove me wrong. Ben liked to do
that. But I knew I was right this time, and I took great satisfaction in
proving him wrong for a change.

I had been
drawn to the attic ever since I first saw it, even without knowing about the
window. And I wanted to help with the renovation, but it didn't take a brain
surgeon to know there was a lot I couldn't do. Electrical work for one and the
whole house needed rewired. Thank goodness, Connie told me about Chad.
Hopefully, he was still interested in doing the work, and Ben's rudeness hadn't
turned him off.

Downstairs, Ben
dusted off his clothes. "I hope you're going to hire someone to finish
this. You know I'm not cut out for this kind of work."

I sighed.
Luckily, Ben had helped this much. "You know I'm going to hire Chad, if he's
still willing to do the work, that is. You were awfully rude to him."

"I think
you should find someone else. I don't like that guy."

"He comes
highly recommended. Connie says he's tops in his field." Of course Ben was
going to give me a hard time about Chad. His dislike was evident right from the
beginning, and he didn't do a thing to hide it. "Besides, I liked him. He
didn't have to suggest we knock down the wall. He could have charged me for it.
I think he's honest."

"I don't
like this, Anna. This whole renovation thing is crazy."

"Come on,
Ben. Just help me finish knocking down that wall. There's not much more to do.
I'll call the contractor later."

I didn't like
the way Ben looked at me. Like he was sorry he offered. He hated dirt. Besides
the fact he was sweating and the plaster dust mixed with the sweat probably
made him feel gritty. He was going to back out and leave me to finish the job.
I wasn't sure I could handle it. "Please, I really need your help."
Begging usually worked with Ben. He loved to hear me beg.

"Oh, what
the heck." He shrugged. "You're right, there isn't much more to knock
down. Guess that's the least I can do. Besides I'm already dirty. Once we get
that wall knocked down, I can take a shower and call it quits. Okay, I'll help
with the rest of the wall, but that's it."

I smiled and
kissed him. "Thank you." How Ben was going to survive here with all
the renovation going on, I didn't know. Even as a kid, he said he hated getting
dirty. While the neighborhood kids played in the dirt, he sat in the air
conditioned house, reading. I could picture him. Serious-minded Ben didn't like
things other boys enjoyed, like sports. He still didn't.

He followed me up the steps. "Let's get
this done."

Back upstairs,
we knocked down the rest of the dividing wall. All the while, I watched the
shadows move back and forth between me and the trunk. What was in there? I
couldn't wait to find out, but I continued to help Ben. He'd have a fit if I
quit.

"Why do
you suppose someone sealed up this room?" I tried to ignore the shadows
flitting in and out of my vision. They definitely wanted my attention.

"I have no
idea." Ben knocked down the last of the dividing wall. "There, we're
done. Now let your contractors finish the job." He brushed off his hands. "Why
I offered to help you is beyond me. Can I leave now?"

I laughed. I
couldn't help it, he looked so pathetic. Pathetic and so dirty. I appreciated
the fact he helped me. Really I did. Ben didn't particularly like the old
Victorian and couldn't understand why I insisted on buying it. Oh, well, he'd
get used to it. He'd have to if we were going to get married. This was my home,
and I was in it for the long haul.

"Maybe someone was hiding a past." I
ignored Ben's question. Seldom did he ask permission for anything, and staying
dirty a few more minutes wouldn't hurt him.

"It's like
someone walked out of this room and built the wall. They left everything just
as it was." Again the shadows appeared and disappeared. Maybe they held
the key. I was dying to dive into that trunk.

With the last
of the wall down, I began the clean up. Ben stood by while I put chunks of
plaster and pieces of lathe into an old box. I could see all Ben wanted to do
was jump into a shower.

Finally, he
apparently couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm heading for the shower."
He turned and hurried down the steps before I could answer. Not that I cared.
Right now I was better off without him. I barely glanced at him. "Go
ahead. I can clean up."